I should walk alone
by Donnadares
Summary: Story roughly follows season three but with an original fictional character, named Donna. She's out in the woods alone but badly wounded when encountering Daryl Dixon. Will she survive?
1. Chapter 1

**Well, here it is. My first fanfic story ever. I have a few chapters finished already but posting just chapter 1 first to see if there's anyone interested at all. Please leave feedback! I can't wait to hear what you all think of it and more importantly: how can improve. The story line is roughly based on season 3. Enjoy :)**

******Chapter 1 – Not much longer**

I didn't know for how long I'd been awake. Could be days for all I knew: I'd lost track of time completely. Though right know I could swear I saw someone on the main road. I know a lack of sleep makes you go crazy but this looked real. I'd heard an engine roaring before so chances are there's someone undead there. I realized this meant I had to be more careful than ever. I'd just barely made it out of the hands of a group of men and honestly, the undead can apparently still be more dangerous than the deceased. I decided to wait for whoever was there to pass and hid behind a tree.

Standing there, completely still, the cuts and scratches on my back started to hurt and the state I was in started to scare the shit out of me. My swollen wrist looked worse than an hour ago and then it hit me. I wasn't going to make it through another day wandering around the woods. I could barely use my right wrist which would surely prevent me from building another tree house.

Trying to figure out how to make the situation somewhat better, I peeked through the leaves. I could see the guy on the main road more clear now. It looked like he was armed with a crossbow and the engine I had heard probably belonged to his motorcycle. Trying to figure out what my next step would be (perhaps I could steal his motorcycle somehow?), I heard a growl from only a few steps away.

Fuck no, not now. Not having enough time to find the knife I should be wearing on me somewhere, I grabbed my shotgun more tightly and cursed again as the pain in my wrist became unbearable. Realizing the risk I was taking, I pointed the barrel towards the walker and without hesitation shot it straight between the eyes. "Where's that fucking silencer when you rely on it?" I silently cursed again and tried to figure out where the guy on the main road was. I'm sure he had heard my shot but I couldn't find him. Perhaps he had entered the other side of the woods. If that was the case, he would probably be dead now. Not having to kill him meant sparing my last shotgun bullet, which was a happy thought.

My own gunshot had made my head feel funny and I stayed there leaning against the tree to gasp for air. I knew I was about to collapse and had to get to that motorcycle. I took a step away from the tree and started walking towards the road. With every step I took down that hill my legs felt more and more like spaghetti strands. It reminded me of the feeling after smoking a big blunt with my friends back in the old days. Before I could start remembering details, I forced myself back to reality. I couldn't use another sentimental flashback right now. This world doesn't have a place for memories anymore.

"Drop the fucking gun and put yer hands where I can see 'em". I looked up, angry with myself. How the fuck could I have failed to paid attention at this crucial moment? What the fuck is happening to me? I had to be strong now.

I held on to my shotgun so tightly that I was afraid I may squeeze it, and aimed for his face. "You really think I was just going to give in like that?"

He narrowed his eyes "If you wanna live, you shud".

I smirked. "Really? You going to tell me that to survive here I'm going to have to give up my gun? Interesting theory".

He raised his eyebrows and my fear disappeared completely. I wasn't going to go down here. If I was to die from a human, it would be my own finger pulling the trigger right before being eaten alive.

I looked at him from behind my shotgun and slowly started walking towards him. His voice was soft but steady and urgent. "Listen, I've killed a couple of humans before, I don't have pity darlin'". "Stop walking or your story ends righ' here".

I could see he tightened the grip on his crossbow and realized I couldn't take him on. Not in the state I was in. I could barely walk and he looked tough as nails. His face was covered in either dirt, blood, or both. Observing him I realized a walker silently approaching him from behind. If I could just keep him busy and draw the attention to me, perhaps the walker would do the work for me.

"So, what exactly will you do if I do drop my gun?" I lowered my shotgun and looked at him provocatively.

The question humbled him and I could see he wasn't sure what to answer."Not shoot you in the head, would tha' work for ye?" and surprisingly, he lowered his crossbow too. "So where's yer group?"

I laughed. "Sorry to disappoint you but it is just me at this party".

He seemed puzzled with my answers and my plan appeared to be working. The walker was getting closer and so far he hadn't noticed. He had lowered his crossbow and I started second guessing.

What if this guy wasn't planning on hurting me? What if he did have a group that relied on him? That would make me just as bad of a human being as the men I despised. Fuck. I sighted and as the walker stretched its arms to grab him from behind, I lifted my shotgun and fired my final bullet. The walker went down and so did I.

My leg felt like it was on fire and as I looked down I started yelling. "I fucking save your ass and you shoot me in the leg?! Fuck you man, fuck you! ."

I looked up and saw mr. crossbow guy getting up, raging. "Ye? Savin' ma ass? That fucking walker was about 3 secs away from eatin' my fucking neck! Better be happy I crouched to dodge the bullet or your pretty lil' face would've been gone righ' now".

Realizing how small my chances of survival were now, I ripped the arrow out. "Here, have your fucking ammo. Doesn't look like I am going to need it anymore anyway"I threw the arrow and got up. "And now leave me the fuck alone".

With all the strength I still had in me I got up and started walking. After my first step the world around me quickly changed into a blur as I could feel the warm blood dripping from my upper leg. And as if gravity had been gone this entire time and suddenly made its comeback, I fell face first into the muddy ground and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright so far one person took the time to provide me with some feedback: thank you so much for that! Especially concerning Daryl's accent. English is not my native language and I find it quite hard to successfully write the southern accent. So please, if you have any feedback on how I can improve my writing, do let me know! Also I have another question: do you guys think I should change to third person writing instead of the I perspective? I've noticed many fanfics are in third person. It does allow more space for the other characters but I like the I perspective because it is so personal. Let me know your thoughts and thank you for reading! **

**Chapter 2 - Lockdown**

I heard a blanket of sounds but just couldn't open my eyes, as if my body had developed its own mind and wasn't planning on following my orders. Instead of fighting it, I just lay there for god knows how long. Who were all these people? Had the past few months been a nightmare I had just woken from? Or did my mind survive a bite and am I now trapped inside a walker version of myself? That last scenario scared me so much that I had to figure out what was going on. I am a fighter. Come on, I can do this. Just a little bit more.

* * *

I don't know why I took her back. Could've just left her there, taken her gun too. But something about her fascinated me. The way she approached me, fearless, almost unreal. She wasn't scared after I shot her in the leg, she was pissed off. Pissed off is a state of mind I can deal with. People feared me way before the world went to shit. Other than Merle no one was ever really pissed off with me without showing some sort of fear too. I need to figure out who she is. What it is about her that draws my attention. And god she's fine' as fuck too. "What the hell have you done to her man? She's quite heavily injured. Did you two fight?" I looked up frustrated to see T-dog standing there uncomfortably. "Ye, we had ourselves a nice ol' wrestling game before I went and shot her in the leg". He frowned and left. I fucking hate people interfering with my shit but I had to admit I was curious what had happened to her too.

* * *

After what appeared to be forever, I managed to open my eyes. The sun shining in my face hurt and I wanted to rub my eyes but couldn't move my hands. Looking at my own body, a feeling of happiness got to me. My injuries were taken care of, I still had all my limps and I was lying in a proper bed for the first time in forever. Someone even took the effort to give me a blanket. I smiled briefly, just long enough to realize I couldn't move my left hand as it was handcuffed to the bed. I started panicking and quickly scanned the room looking for hints as to where I may be. Other than the bed and a toilet, the room was unfurnished and someone had tallied a dozen of days into the concrete walls. The window I thought I had seen earlier was actually a square hole in the wall covered with bars. Nothing that looked improvised, no, proper jail bars. A feeling of now pure fear and panic crept up my spine as the little pieces of scattered memory slowly puzzled themselves into a solid memory of what had happened. The fuck that shot me must have taken me. Fuck, fuck me. The tears I had saved up for weeks were now pouring out. Wiping the snot from my face unto the pillow I realized I had to be strong now. The weak go first and seeing they had taken my guns, I would soon not be of any use. But why did he put effort trying to fix my injuries? I heard voices coming from the hallway and decided to keep still, trying to figure out what they may want from me.

"Woah can you believe this? She is still sleeping after days! Reminds me of that fairytale momma!" The voice appeared to be from a kid. I cringed. My little brother was seventeen when all this happened and although I miss him to bits, I am glad he didn't have to witness all the things I have seen since then.

A woman appeared to be faking a laugh and then whispered "Is she even alive? Is it worth the medicines? Will she make it?"

I wasn't sure who she was whispering to and before I knew it, someone pulled up my shirt. In an instant reaction, I opened my eyes and grabbed his hand; preventing him from touching me anywhere I didn't want him to touch me.

I was going for "don't touch me or I'll kill you" but instead screamed in agony. OH FUCK HOLY FUUCCCKKK! I let go and fell back, holding my wrist as if it was about to fall off. From the corner of my eye I saw the woman looking at me annoyed and forcing her little boy to leave the room.

"Good morning, I would have told you before but seeing I thought you were sleeping… Your wrist is broken and you need to give it some rest for a while". I looked up to an old man, probably around his seventies, holding a stethoscope.

"Sorry" I mumbled, realizing he only wanted to help me. I've really made a great first impression.

"That's alright" he smiled and looked at me in a way I recognized more than I wanted to. He looked at me in pity. I don't need anyone's pity but decided to shut up for now.

"I don't think I've introduced myself. My name is Hershel. I would shake your hand, but, well, let's not go for that" He smiled again and I forced myself to smile back, not planning to tell him my name. After an awkward silence, he continued "I've tried to place your wrist bones back together and bandaged your hand to speed up the healing process. The wound caused by the arrow has been cleaned and stitched back up; it is already looking quite good for you there. The injuries on your back look a lot worse. They were badly infected and honestly you're lucky you're even alive".

"Lucky huh?" I smirked. He stopped looking at me and absently started into the distance. It felt awkward, like one of those family birthdays back in the days. "Look I really appreciate this all, don't get me wrong, but if you wouldn't mind I'd rather go right now. Save your meds, I'll be fine."

I tried to sit up to show him I was in good spirits and feeling better but my stomach turned and I almost puked then and there so I decided to remain still. The old man I now knew as Hershel shook his head and from the corner of my eye I could see more and more people standing around the cell I had been put in. I decided not to make eye contact.

"Well Daryl is the one that brought you in, said you saved his life, so I would say he decides on your faith. I would however not advise to… " It just struck me what he had said and I filled up with anger.

"Really? The guy that SHOT me in the leg causing me to be here in the first place is going to decide whether I leave or not? What the actual fuck?"

Another guy stepped in and raised his voice. His posture and manner of speaking reminded me of a cop. "Alright, enough is enough. Regardless of the by Daryl inflected wound, you would have been dead right now, no question about it with those badly infected open wounds on your back. Do you hear me? Dead! So better be grateful to him and everyone here or I will drop you outside the prison fence myself."

I looked at him not sure what to say or do. "I think that would be best for everyone" I whispered and turned my back towards them. No matter how lovey dovey and caring these people may be, I need to get out there and fulfill my mission. I promised the only person that really matters: me.

The same strict voice interrupted my chain of thoughts "Get some more rest; you've slept for the past fourteen hours straight. If you still feel this way tomorrow, we'll let you go."

There wasn't much I could do locked to the bed, so without turning my head I asked him to unlock the handcuffs and just lock the cell instead. "No." he answered firmly and closed the door, taking the others with him. Great. I'd been alone for weeks and yet now that there are people around providing me with care I feel more alone than I've had in a long, long while. I tried to picture happy things, slipping in and out of consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Quite-a-long-chapter alert! I'm not as happy with how the chapter turned out asI hoped I would be, but it will do for now. Thanks everyone that is following/reading my story. Please do let me know what you think :) **

**Chapter 3 – Read me**

I had heard the screams and cries but ignored them until Rick eventually called out for me. "What do ya want?"

Hell I wish these people would leave me alone just for a bit during these long ass 24 hour days. Is that really too much to ask for?

Rick came walking towards my sleeping mat and he didn't look happy. I jumped up and started lacing my boots "Any problems out there?" I asked. "No but your guest is frightening everyone. Look I don't know what this girl has been through but she clearly isn't over it yet. Are you sure it's safe to have her around?" What the fuck was going on here? . "Rite, you are the one trying to save everyone's ass and the second I live up to that standard it ain't rite?! What should I have done, let her die? I can drop 'er on the other side of the fence rite now if that's what y'all want me to do? " I really just couldn't grasp what the actual fuck was going on here right now. Rick gave me a complicated look and he lowered his voice "No, no need to throw her out, you did the right thing." Ah great, finally some recognition. Just as I needed. I frowned my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue to tell me why he came up to me in the first place. "Please just go there and make her stop. Eh. Stop sleeping for time being. Carl is terrified and I'm sure others are, too. It just isn't a pretty sound, you know". I nodded and headed over to her cell.

* * *

"Hey, psst. you, wake up" I heard someone whispering right next to my ear. "What the fuck are you doing?" I cried, still trying to figure out what was happening this time. "Com'on, you needa stop sleepin' for a bit. You're screaming and cryin' so fucking loud, scarin' everyone". It was the guy with the crossbow, I could tell from the southern accent. I started blushing but it was dark and just I hoped he wouldn't notice. "I was going to warn you to not take me but I didn't really get the chance, did I?" I frowned at him, waiting for his response.

"You don't aim a shotgun at a guy with a crossbow, pull the trigger and expect to walk away, do ya?" I knew he was right but I didn't feel like admitting anything so kept quiet. I could've just told him there was a walker behind him and he would have had enough time to kill it himself. But for some reason I didn't.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have wasted my last bullet on your sad, sorry ass" I sneered at him. His facial expression didn't change nor did he feel the need to say something.

"So mr. crossbow, are you going to shoot me again?" I raised one eyebrow, curious how he was going to react. He smirked and slowly moved closer. "Mr crossbow sounds neat but you can call me Daryl. Where did ya find this attitude anyway? It's cute". That threw me off. Cute? I was trying to be anything but cute.

"You know what would be cute? You releasing me from these handcuffs because I've earned your trust by not killing you". He laughed and shook his head.

"Rick told me you were pretty much begging everyone to let you go. Why would you want to go out there" he pointed at the window, "if you could be rite here recoverin'?" I tried to figure out why he wanted an answer to that.

"Don' look at me like I just asked you a crazy question" He smiled a sarcastic smile and I couldn't help but laugh.

"So you gonna tell me your name, or shud I come up with a nickname for ye too?" I doubted for a split second but decided to stick with my strategy "I'd rather not, nothing personal, just trying to not get too personal." I tried to look for disappointment in his eyes but I couldn't read him.

"Fair 'nuff then. Anything I can do to keep you from waking everyone up?" I pulled all my strength together and managed to sit up without screaming from the agonizing pain. At that moment I realized it was pointless to beg him to let me go. Even if he would, they were right. In the current state I am in I wouldn't make it through another day. I could barely sit up, let alone stand up or walk. Next to that I had wasted my last shotgun bullet to save mr. crossbow and with just my handgun I wouldn't make it far. I could see him impatiently waiting, ready to return to wherever he came from.

"A few chugs from any hard liquor would really help me out" I said, closing my eyes and leaning back to the wall. I could hear him leaving and my eyes watered up. Perhaps Mandy did the right thing. Maybe I should have given up, too.

Not long after mr crossbow left (I already liked his nickname better than his actual name) I dozed off but quickly woke up to the sound of glasses clinging together. I looked up to see Daryl grinning with a bottle of vodka in his hands. "No way!" I blurted out, more than ready to finally feel out of this world.

He poured me a glass and then looked puzzled, realizing I had no hands to actually hold the glass. "Will ye try 'n kill me if I unlock ya?" I smirked.

"You are joking right? I apparently couldn't even kill you when I was armed with a shotgun. I highly doubt I'll be of any risk at this very moment". He still looked doubtful.

"Imma lock the door from the inside and put ya back in the handcuffs when we done gettin' smashed". Perfect. "You've got yourself a deal mr. crossbow!" I would honestly give everything to just be able to use my hand for a few seconds. I was dying to rub my eyes and inspect my injuries.

He took the handcuffs off and handed me my share of vodka. Within a few seconds the blood returned to my hand and it started tingling. I used to hate the tingly feeling but my dad loved it and would always react offended when I would complain about numb limps. He said I had to treasure these signs of life and right now I did. Oh hell yes right now I did. More than ever.

The memories swiped the smile off my face and I quickly downed the vodka in my hand. It burned its way through my body and I enjoyed every nanosecond of it. In silence, Daryl refilled my glass and we continued to sip, me from my glass and mr. crossbow straight from the bottle. Minutes passed by without a word being said and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt. I observed him as he absently stared in the distance. His eyes were awfully pretty. Light blue, like the ocean my little brother and I had always wanted to take a swim in.

Years ago, on a sunny April day, we had passed a travel agency and quickly noticed a huge poster of somewhere far, far away. White beaches, light blue ocean. We couldn't stop looking as we tried to push our noses through the glass window. We stood there until they eventually demanded us to leave. I promised him I would take him there one day. Another promise I couldn't keep. I made a fist and squeezed until my fingers turned white.

Still staring in Daryl's eyes I realized he was now looking back at me and I blushed again. "I don't think I've thanked you for bringing me back here yet, so, thank you." I waited for his reaction but all I got in return was a quick nod.

"Why didn't you just leave me there anyway? Take my gun, rape me while you could?" He immediately looked offended and before I could apologize he sneered: "Rite, 'cause I look like the type that would do some'in like that innit? Thanks. Great way to show some good ol' gratitude rite there".

"I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything like that" I said, trying to hide the crack in my voice and the tears now almost flooding my eyes.

And then it hit me. I hadn't felt this comfortable in forever. If he left this room right now and cuffed me to the bed again, I would have nowhere to go and these awful nightmares would come and get me. I took a few breaths, downed the vodka and cleared my throat: "My name is Donna."

I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding and looked up to Daryl, hoping he in one way or another would show his appreciation for the fact I had decided to trust him. My confidence however dropped within a second as he didn't even look up. In fact, I wasn't even sure he had heard what I said but I continued anyway.

"I'm from Europe, The Netherlands to be precise." All of a sudden I had caught his attention and he filled my glass once more.

"I was at home with my boyfriend Dean when hell broke loose. It went pretty fine, for us at least. We lived right next to one of the few gun stores in the country and were friends with the owner, too. We equipped ourselves with a baseball bat and three kitchen knives before heading over there. Sweet dude gave us a couple of guns and enough ammo to last for months. When everything wasn't so bad yet I even took my tiny car to pick up my best friend Mandy. She lived not too far away and didn't have any family close by. I figured going through all that hell alone would be worse." I shook my head "and lord was I right about that".

I took another deep breath, trying not to picture Mandy's face as I'd last seen it. "Anyway, we survived fairly decently for a good few weeks. Until one day Dean was on watch and we heard him scream in agony. He came back with a bloody neck, looked like he was bitten but he said he wasn't. According to him, he ran into a wall during a walker attack." I heard Daryl smirk in disbelief.

"Yeah, fucking naive, I know. But at that moment in time you don't want to believe what is happening so you pretend it is not there. Back then I wasn't in survival mode. We'd gotten through everything so successfully that I'd gotten cocky I guess. That night I woke up to a growling dead Dean about to feast on my brain. In return, I shot his brains through the back of his head and within a few minutes Mandy and I were on our way to my parents."

I swallowed twice and quickly downed another glass. "I don't want to go into detail but let's say that didn't end so well and Mandy and I ended up on a boat towards the US. Rumors that only Europe was hit were spreading like a wildfire and we decided to push our luck. Stupid idea, as you know" I giggled while he just looked at me in more disbelief

"really? They still equipping boats and shit?" He pulled one eyebrow up and it made him look cute, almost innocent. "Haha yeah, wish they hadn't. Arriving here it looked like a bigger mess than back in Europe. On the bright side however, there are lots of forests and trees here so we headed for that after stocking up on food and ammo. I'm not sure for how long we've lived in the forests but after quite a while we had our whole routine figured out. We built tree houses where we would live for a few days before moving on to another tree. It worked well. No walkers, no other dangers. An occasional spider but after being attacked by the dead numerous times I've somehow managed to deal with my fear for spiders" I smiled and noticed Daryl was getting closer, only not-looking at me when he took chugs from the bottle.

"so after getting used to our little routine, we started making mistakes. Stayed in one place way too long, had the walker's bulk up to enormous numbers underneath the tree we were staying in." I realized this was the first time I was actually telling someone this story and it took me quite some effort to stay calm and finish it. Mr. crossbow had probably already figured there wasn't going to be a happy ending.

"So one night, I wake up as I'm literally smacked into one of the walls of our little home. I look down only to find an entire fucking army of walkers pushing against the tree.

"They do that?" Daryl's facial expression finally changed but I still couldn't tell what he was thinking.

I shook my head "Apparently… Within a few seconds Mandy was up. I could tell because she was instantly yelling and screaming hysterically. I tell her not to be afraid and hand her my handgun so she can shoot them off while I try to open the back window of our tree house. And guess, guess what SHE does next?" I could feel the anger growing inside. At first I'd just been sad and depressed. After everything that had happened, the sad and depressed had slowly vanished and been replaced with anger. She shouldn't have left me alone, selfish piece of shit. I could feel a tear falling down my face. Gosh this guy must think I'm a weak ass.

"She fucking takes the gun, puts it to the side of her head, tells me she's sorry and runs the bullet through. The only fucking human being I had left killed herself then and there. While I was about to have my brains eaten. Not knowing what to do next, I threw her body out and the dead immediately went for their snack, allowing me to escape." I sighed and regretted telling mr. crossbow by story. I thought talking to a stranger would be rather easy, yet failing to realize strangers were all I had now.

"Fuck that sucks man" He was frantically biting his thumb.

"Gets worse still" I tried to smile. "During the whole escape I'd dropped my handgun so I waited in a tree close by for god knows how long. Hours? Days?" I shrugged. "When I finally went back, I could see one disgusting undead pile of organs trying to move forward. I grabbed my shotgun and guess what? Mandy, she" I swallowed "Mandy turned. Apparently I had thrown her out alive and she had died from the bites and it all is my fault and oh god." I almost cracked "I'm sorry" I said, trying to collect myself before Daryl made it up to the bed with me.

He sat down, apparently uneasy with the whole situation and patted me on the back. It made me feel uncomfortable and honestly it hurt like hell having someone pat the injuries on my back but I couldn't find the energy to say anything anymore.

I couldn't read his expression but I realized his eyes were even more beautiful from up close and for a moment I felt the urge to kiss him. Just the fact that that thought had crossed my mind right after telling him all about the misery that was now my life made me want to kick myself. What the fuck is wrong with me? It must be the vodka.

"I'm damn sure the headshot killed the kid. We found out we are all infected. Damn virus just comes up at ya once ya dead". I looked at him surprised and dried my eyes. All this guilt for nothing. She had killed herself. And the largest part of me with her.

'Thanks now I feel disgusting" I said jokingly. He finished the bottle of vodka in one chug. "Tha's alrite, you 'ready looking disgustin' anyway" we both laughed and in my head I metaphorically praised the lord for not kissing him.

"But err, wha' caused all of 'em wounds and scratches?" he had the same look in his eyes he did before, like all he wanted to hear was concerning the damage to my body.

"Let's not talking about that now alright? I haven't been drunk in a good few months and I'd rather not ruin it any further".

He shrugged and stood up. "ya owe me the rest of the story Donna" I was wondering if he could see the sparkle in my eyes when I realized he had actually heard my name. For a moment I thought perhaps he was going to hug me goodnight but he just stood there, looking at me.

I tried to smiled at him, laid my head down and closed my eyes. Perhaps if I would fall asleep now, he wouldn't lock me up and I could get away from here before sunrise.


End file.
